June 2007 Archives

My phone had a peculiar physics-defying trait: no matter how you oriented it on a surface, if it was on "vibrate" and someone called, it would find the shortest route off that surface, every time. I did several tests to verify this.

Apparently, it was also a high-tech divining rod. Today, while receiving a call, it vibrated off my kitchen counter and directly into my cat's water dish. It had a lot of dry land to choose from, but it knew exactly where it was going. My only regret is that, since the phone is now dead, I won't be able to prove its supernatural powers to James Randi and score the million dollar prize.

Is it a coincidence that my phone decided to commit suicide right when everyone's going crazy about the snazzier, expensive-r iPhone? Hard to say. There were a few months left on my Sprint contract, so it needn't have done itself in quite so soon. Perhaps the pressures of making and receiving calls regarding my impending job hunt just got to be too much.

In any case, if you're the kind of person whose phone number I probably used to have, consider emailing it to me, as I doubt my SIM card survived; and, until I get some new, less-depressed gadget, don't bother trying to reach me by phone...

It's me hangin' with my peeps, Alex and Rachel (the Pike Place pig).

New photos here.

But... the world... must know... how cute you are.

More cute photos here. We love you, son!

The really creepiest thing ever is this video.

Doctor Who, the show being interrupted by the infamous Max Headroom pirate broadcast in Chicago, is creepy enough for little kids as it is. At the time this incident happened in November 1987, I was having nightmares induced by then-current episodes of Doctor Who in England. I can't even imagine watching re-runs of Who on a cold winter night in Chicago, maybe in a dark basement, and having this pirate video suddenly interrupt things. It's so The Ring-like in nature; I'm half expecting Max Headroom to come crawling out of my computer just while watching it on YouTube.

The Max Headroom pirating incident is fascinating to me, partially because the mystery of whodunit was never solved, and partially because of the bizarre, cryptic nature of the video that took over Chicago's PBS station for a good full minute. And also because I love reading about things of a hacking nature, which this is. At first glance, it just looks like some goofball playing an impromptu, immature prank on an unsuspecting TV-viewing public. But when you start to piece together some of the clues, you realize that the perpetrators were actually pretty sophisticated, and may have actually had some kind of premeditated motive in mind.

First of all, if you blocked out most of the '80s, you may have forgotten about Max Headroom. He was a robotic, stuttering, computer-generated floating head in a room full of moving laser-lights. He had a talk show on cable, a science-fiction series on ABC, and even managed to squeeze in time for a few endorsements:

(Hey, that explains why Max flings the Pepsi can in the pirate video; he's mocking Max's Coke advertisement. Clue Club!)

Obviously, the guy in the pirate video is just a guy in a Max mask, and not computer generated. You might have noticed that, hilariously, he managed to sort-of duplicate the magical lasery background by simply spinning a large piece of corrugated metal! I'm sorry, but whoever thought of that... way to go. Utterly brilliant.

Meanwhile... Little Jamie actually loved that sci-fi Max Headroom series on ABC. It was actually cooler than you might expect a TV series about a talking computery head in a box would be. The show centered around a futuristic society in which TV stations run everything in typically ruthless fashion (e.g. "off" buttons on TV sets are illegal). A plucky investigative reporter, Edison Carter (played by Matt Frewer, one of my favorite character and voice actors from that time period) suffers a mishap while investigating TV-network wrongdoings. While unconscious, the network's resident brain manages to download the contents of Carter's brain into a computer, creating Max Headroom. Max is Edison's cyber-id, a ghost in the machine who randomly zips from screen to screen with impunity, often commenting on the shenanigans of the all-powerful network television behemoth as it rules over an oppressed, TV-watching proletariat. All much to the consternation of Amanda Pays and Jeffrey Tambor.

It was one of those sci-fi shows that's way ahead of its time; it was kind of a cross between Blade Runner and The Running Man, and every episode began with the cryptic caption, "20 minutes into the future." Yeah, I ate it up. The show ran for most of 1987 but was pulled off the air in October due to low ratings, about six weeks before the pirate video aired. I think the show actually could have been an inspiration to the pirates; it was the kind of show where the freedom fighters are the ones who are pirating TV signals (and are subject to death if caught). Heck, maybe the pirates were upset their show was getting canceled and wanted to get revenge against a convenient target. The fact that they chose Max as their mascot has to be more than a coincidence.

Of course, it's hard to discern a message considering how garbled the sound is. What the hell is Max trying to say? Why is that lady spanking him with a flyswatter? Why do I get the feeling that James Woods' character from Videodrome is going to jump out from under my bed and grab my legs after watching this video?

Well, some intrepid Internet-writing type people have attempted to discern what "Max" is saying. Opinions differ, and there are plenty of attempted transcripts out there on the Internet for you to find. But there is some consensus.

"That does it, he's a frick'n nerd" or "That doctor is a frick'n nerd."

"Yeah, I think I'm better [or, "this guy's better] than Chuck Swirsky."

"Frick'n liberal" or "He's a liberal."

"Oh, Jesus."

(Garbled)

"Yeah... Catch the wave."

(Garbled words or moaning)

"Your love is fading."

(Laughter)

(Hums theme song to Clutch Cargo show)

"I stole CBS" or "I still see the X."

(Continues humming theme song to Clutch Cargo show)

"Oh."

"Oh, my files" or "Oh, my piles."

(Laughter or moaning)

"Oh, I just made a giant masterpiece printed all over the greatest world newspaper nerds."

(Laughter or moaning)

"My brother" or "My mother," is wearing the other one, it's dirty."

(Garbled, possibly ending with "signing off.")

(Pirate broadcast now switches to "spanking scene").

"They're coming to get me."

"Come get me, bitch."

(Screaming)

"Oh, do it."

(Screaming)

OK, well that cleared everything up!

Actually, despite the disagreements and nonsensicality, there are some pretty good clues here. First of all, it helps to know that Chicago's PBS station, WTTW wasn't the only one under attack that night; independent superstation WGN also suffered a brief attack by the pirates, as you can see in this national newscast:

Dan Roan had been interrupted by Max as well, sans-sound. That may explain the reference to Chuck Swirsky, a former WGN sportscaster. It also may explain why Max starts humming the theme song to Clutch Cargo, which aired on WGN years earlier in syndication. "I still see the X" could be a reference to the cartoon, whose last episode was titled "Big X"; or, if he said "I stole CBS", it could be reference to WGN's brief status as a CBS affiliate decades earlier.

And it may explain the cryptic reference to the "greatest world newspaper nerds". WGN was owned by the Tribune Company, and, in fact, the initials WGN stand for the Chicago Tribune's slogan, "World's Greatest Newspaper." And now you know... the rest... of the blah blah etc.

Another important clue to what's going on here is the fact that the pirate video must have been pre-recorded. It's tempting to think of the attack as happening live, but the video cuts from the man in the mask to the spanking scene, which betrays the fact that this is a taped image we're watching. A scary, scary taped image that will result in Max coming to kill you seven days after watching it, but a taped image nonetheless.

So, that's it... this was clearly meant to be an attack on WGN specifically. The pirates tried to take over the signal, but they couldn't get audio, and the WGN technicians who were present during the station's newscast were able to switch to a backup transmitter on the fly. WTTW was not so lucky; nobody there could switch transmitters on the fly, and so Max was able to broadcast his video in its frightening entirety. Thus, the PBS station became the unfortunate victim out of convenience; the video meant for WGN was broadcast on WTTW instead.

Make no mistake; despite the goofiness, and the spanking, this was a sophisticated attack. It would take a serious transmitter to overcome the one atop the Sears Tower, which is what the pirates did, and the speaker in the video knows about WGN's history. I don't know if these people necessarily had a grudge against WGN, or if they were disgruntled fans of the canceled TV show. But man, it takes some kind of genius to pull off that stunt, and not get caught by the FCC (unlike that lame Captain Midnight).

Seriously, what a great mystery. I'm half-tempted to track down those Clutch Cargo DVDs to see if the last episode has any significance to this story. Meanwhile, fake Max Headroom continues to haunt me, 20 years into the future.

Kimberly and I, and our friend David Cuddy, went to the Seattle Storm game tonight. (That's WNBA, by the way.) They got walloped by San Antonio, sadly, but we had good seats a couple rows from the floor, close enough to see a Lauren Jackson fan who came equipped with props. Amusingly, he made the AP writeup:

One Storm fan showed his support for Jackson, of Australia, by holding up a 4-foot plastic kangaroo every time Jackson scored.

I'm pretty sure the reason that made the article is because he kept accidentally bonking the AP reporter (sitting in front of him in press row) on the head with the kangaroo. That's definitely the best way to make the paper.

Meanwhile: the Storm mascot is Doppler, a purple fuzzy thing with a wind meter on his head. Really.

In the 2nd quarter, while Doppler was making his rounds around the lower level, he spotted me and Kimberly. He pointed at Kimberly's baby-filled belly excitedly, then pointed at me, as if to say, "J'ACCUSE!" Then he gave me the "shame on you" hand gesture. I, of course, don't feel any shame over Mr. Baby, nor being able to conceive. I was a only a little fake-concerned that flaunting my ability to do so would anger the Storm's largely lesbian clientele. Still, being made to feel ashamed of my unborn child by a large fuzzy purple mascot is just downright embarrassing.

But Doppler's a good... man? and not one to leave it at that. After leading all the kids in the arena in an on-court conga line, which is adorable...

...he started throwing out T-shirts to the crowd, one of which, at random, contained a $25 Discover gift card. And before throwing out the third one, he seemed to be heading in my direction. Sure enough, he threw a T-shirt right at me, and sure enough, it was the one containing the $25 gift card, which I happily held up for the Jumbotron camera. (I had already made a cameo appearance on the Jumbotron on a replay, giving my "get out" cheer after a great block by Jackson.)

He had to know he was giving me the gift card, right? He was clearly getting me back for making fun of me earlier. At least, that's what I'm going to believe in my heart for all time.

And as David and Kimberly noted, this brings my total winnings while attending sports events to:
- a cell phone (Braves)
- a home jersey (Braves)
- round-trip airfare to San Fran (BB&T)
- $25 gift card (Storm)

And a shirt! Which I promptly wore so I could give a triumphant pose outside the game.

So, as is tradition, I was forced to pledge my undying devotion to the Storm. Sadly, as you may have heard, they (along with the Sonics) might be moving to Oklahoma City or Kansas City or Las Vegas or who-the-hell-knows-where in a year or so, after the state rightfully decided that spending $300M on an arena for a $250M franchise wasn't worth pursuing. I'm looking forward to laughing at owner Clay Bennett 10 years from now when the Sonics struggle to attract fans; when that sudden realization hits that he moved from the 14th-biggest TV market to the 45th or 31st or 43rd market, respectively, it's going to be highly enjoyable. For all of us.

But it really will be sad when the Storm leave, because it's a cheap ticket that families can afford, with a devoted fan base (only some of them lesbians). And those ladies (the ones on the court) are great role models for all the Girl Scouts we saw dribbling orange-and-white basketballs up the sidewalk after the game. The rest of the nation doesn't really care for this league, but it's a big deal here... there's no way they're going to replicate that in any of those other cities. (For one thing, I think they're just getting over the whole "Women shouldn't be allowed outside the home thing" in Oklahoma City. So there's that.)

Meanwhile, we'll try to enjoy it while they're here. And I'll try to figure out what to spend my $25 on.